Song!

i just posted this in billroper's journal. It goes to Rudyard Kipling's poem "The King," as set by Leslie Fish.

"Farewell, Romance!" the singer said,
"No more shall bard be called to play,
Now cylinders with beeswax spread
Can ape his songs by night or day,
Tom Edison has tolled the knell
For such as we--Romance, farewell!"

"Farewell, Romance!" the clocksmith cried.
"Tables are turned by lightning's power,
The cunning works that were our pride
Have wound to this, their final hour.
The public flocks to what is new;
Our trade is dead--Romance, adieu!"

Farewell, Romance!" the jazzman spoke.
"'T is only steel that magnets move.
The scene is split, the spell is broke,
We've gone and lost our spiral groove.
The shape of tape is just so wrong,
Like, it's the pits--Romance, so long!"

"Romance!" the ageing hippies keen.
"He liked it when the sound was rough,
Nor used computer or machine
To fix up What was good enough.
CDs are sterile, soulless, dry,
Fit for machines--Romance, goodbye!"

The fifth verse may be used as in the original, or if you can think of a better one by all means do so. :)